


Baby, I'm Yours

by FallingLikeThis



Series: Baby, I'm Yours [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Librarian Derek, Librarian Lydia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Secret Admirer, Utter ridiculousness, Valentine's Day, kind of, seeing strange things in a library
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5946477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Honestly, Derek Hale didn’t think he could be surprised anymore at the things you see working behind the circulation desk of the university library. He thought he’d seen it all. There’s a guy that comes in on Thursdays that carries a kitten in his bag and thinks Derek doesn’t know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>There’s another guy that comes in every other day or so to catch a nap in a secluded corner. </em></p><p>  <em>And then there’s the couple that Derek’s had to kick out three times now for having sex in the stacks. </em></p><p>  <em>There’s this one guy that has, by far, expanded Derek’s list of strange happenings in the library. He only knows the guy’s name because he has to come to Derek to check out his books and it shows up on the computer but it’s not actually anything Derek can pronounce so it doesn’t really help. Anyway, Unpronounceable-first-name Stilinski is always up to something. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pseudofoucault333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/gifts).



> To my prompter, I really hope you like what I did here. I know it's not incredibly long but I am planning on it being the first part of a series so hopefully the best is yet to come.
> 
> Title is from Alessia Cara's "I'm Yours".

 

Honestly, Derek Hale didn’t think he could be surprised anymore at the things you see working behind the circulation desk of the university library. He thought he’d seen it all. There’s a guy that comes in on Thursdays that carries a kitten in his bag and thinks Derek doesn’t know. Derek would stop him but every time Derek spies them between books when he’s re-shelving, the guy is walking around and letting people pet it. The despondent people that are working on last minute essays or assignments for professors with impossible standards always look a little less stressed when Kitten Guy walks away. And who is Derek to keep someone from making people a little less miserable?

 

There’s another guy that comes in every other day or so to catch a nap in a secluded corner. That’s literally all he comes to the library for. He always has bags under his eyes and he’s not bothering anyone so Derek doesn’t say anything.

 

And then there’s the couple that Derek’s had to kick out three times now for having sex in the stacks. He’s supposed to threaten to ban them for the year but he’s on a first name basis by now with Erica and Boyd. They’re not bad people, they just have rotten luck with roommates. They’re always being sexiled so they have to find their own place to have sex. Derek wonders that they don’t have any friends they could ask but then he doubts he would agree to it if anyone ever asked him. At least, not without plans to do some pretty extensive cleaning after. Not that Derek has actual friends. He keeps mostly to himself and only really talks to his sister. He’s come to terms with the fact that he’s a pathetic loner. His sister never lets him forget. But that’s another topic entirely.

 

There’s this one guy that has, by far, expanded Derek’s list of strange happenings in the library. He only knows the guy’s name because he has to come to Derek to check out his books and it shows up on the computer but it’s not actually anything Derek can pronounce so it doesn’t really help. Anyway, Unpronounceable-first-name Stilinski is always up to something. Today, he happens to be wearing a Batman costume. He walks by the circulation desk as though there’s nothing strange about this occurrence, eyes not even glancing around at all the people eyeing the costume, feet never faltering in their steps as his cape flows behind him purposefully. Aside from wondering what the hell is wrong with him, Derek kind of admires him for his devil-may-care attitude. He watches as Stilinski walks over to the table he typically shares with Kitten Guy. Kitten Guy never actually checks out any books, hence still bearing the name Kitten Guy because Derek has nothing to replace it with.

 

“You’re staring.” Lydia Martin’s voice breaks into Derek’s thoughts. “Again.”

 

“No, I wasn’t,” Derek denies, quickly looking down at the books in his hands as though that will make his statement true. They both know he’s a liar. It’s been a source of contention between them that Derek can never keep his gazes to himself when Stilinski is the building. Lydia is right. Lydia is always right but that doesn’t stop Derek from his denials.

 

“I mean, he _is_ Batman,” she continues with a smirk, like Derek hasn’t said anything, as she checks in the books on her cart. “So I can’t say I blame you.”

 

“I wasn’t staring,” Derek repeats, setting aside his own work and taking more books from Lydia’s cart to check in and speed up the process so that he can start shelving. The sooner he can get away from this conversation, the better.

 

Lydia keeps glancing between him and Batman Stilinski with that awful knowing smile and Derek feels his skin itch with the need to get away. His hands automatically move faster.

 

“You know, I could put in a good word for you,” Lydia offers, eyes trained on her computer screen as she scans the next book into the system.

 

“You—” Lydia is friends with him??? Shit. That makes Derek’s unrequited crush even more embarrassing. “You know, you could _mind your own business_ ,” Derek snaps, cheeks burning with mortification. He’s 23. His life should not be this humiliating. He takes his half-filled cart and pushes past Lydia, ignoring the fact that she’s still got another half a cart to check in. He needs a little breathing room.

 

“Me thinks he doth protest too much,” Lydia mumbles under her breath as she watches Derek hurry away, biting down on a grin and getting back to work once he disappears between two aisles.

 

~@~

 

“Is he looking?” Stiles whispers to his best friend as he hides behind his laptop.

 

“For the last time,” Scott groans as he sticks his hand into his bag to pet the kitten he’s been taking care of for the last few weeks, Cinder, and also to check that she’s still there. She is, he confirms as she nuzzles against his hand. “He’s been away from the desk for the past ten minutes, dude. He’s not looking.”

 

Stiles slumps in his seat. Not that he _wants_ Hot-Librarian-Derek to see him making an ass out of himself but he wouldn’t mind being noticed once in a while, maybe.

 

“I can’t believe Lydia made me wear this,” Stiles grumbles, pulling his reference book closer so that he might actually be able to get some work done. That is, if he can stop wondering about Derek for more than five minutes.

 

“It’s your own fault,” Scott, the traitor, tells him as he packs his things up to go. He’s got to be at class in half an hour and he needs to get Cinder back to the animal shelter before he goes. “You should know better than to bet against Lydia by now.”

 

“Dude, it was the Superbowl! How was I supposed to know that Lydia actually kept up with football?? She’s dating a lacrosse player and she barely knows anything about the sport, why would that translate to her knowing all the stats of every member of both teams playing in the Superbowl?” Stiles whisper-shouts as he tries not to yank out his own hair. He’s still frustrated over losing.

 

Scott pats his friend’s shoulder as he stands. “She’s Lydia. How long did she fool everyone into thinking she was a brainless attention-seeker? She’s devious man. You know this.”

 

Stiles sighs. He can’t actually argue with that.

 

Scott takes two steps forward before pausing and addressing Stiles again. “You know, it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Maybe you should just ask Derek to be your Valentine.”

 

Stiles stares at Scott, _Unimpressed_ written clearly across his features.

 

Scott rolls his eyes. “Sometimes the best answer is the simplest one.”

 

Stiles snorts. “Did you just ‘Occam’s Razor’ me?”

 

Scott’s face scrunches in confusion. “Who’s that?”

 

Stiles shakes his head, laughing lightly. “Nevermind.”

 

Despite clearly having made no progress, Scott decides to try giving Stiles one last piece of advice before heading off to the animal shelter. “The answer’s always ‘no’ until you ask.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Stiles turns back to stare at the blank screen on his computer. “Don’t let the Terra Cotta Warrior know that you’re stealing your wisdom from their fortune cookies.”

 

“Dick,” Scott mutters, purposely knocking into Stiles’ chair as he passes.

 

“You still love me,” Stiles calls over his shoulder as Scott walks away.

 

“You _hope_ ,” is Scott’s only reply.

 

Once Scott’s gone, Stiles tries to get back to his paper but all he can think about is Derek and Valentine’s Day looming like an ominously approaching raincloud. Sighing at his utter lack of concentration, Stiles rises from his chair and closes his book, deciding to check the thing out and work on it back in his dorm room. He packs up his laptop and takes the book to the circulation desk to check out, expecting Lydia but not seeing her anywhere. There’s a little bell, like the kind you’d expect to find on a hotel reception desk, so Stiles pushes the little button on top and waits as the bell rings out his need for service.

 

Derek is the one that slips behind the circulation desk and Stiles suddenly kind of wishes that he’d stayed at his table until Lydia was back because Derek only glances as him once as he hands over his student I.D.

 

Derek scans the I.D. and then takes the book that Stiles pushes across the counter top. Scanning it in silence. Stiles hates silence.

 

“I lost a bet,” he explains even though no one asked.

 

“Excuse me?” Derek asks, looking up from the computer. He seems startled that Stiles is talking to him. Maybe he’s startled because Stiles looks like a freaking lunatic.

 

“The get-up,” Stiles gestures to his costume. “I lost a bet. That’s why I’m wearing it.”

 

“Oh,” Derek mutters, printing out the receipt with Stiles’ due date on it. Reference books are only allowed to be checked out for a week but Stiles is known to get a little scatterbrained at times so he probably needs that stupid little print out. “Well, good. Crime fighting in the library is strictly prohibited.”

 

Stiles blinks. Was that _a joke_?  He doesn’t even realizing that he’s smiling until he sees Derek fighting a smile as well as he shakes his head at himself. “You may want to rethink that rule.”

 

“Why is that?” Derek asks, holding on to Stiles’ book. If Stiles didn’t know better he’d think Derek was doing it on purpose. Like maybe he doesn’t want Stiles to go.

 

“Well, I assume that crime in the library is prohibited as well,” Stiles starts and Derek nods along very seriously. “But what you seem to be forgetting is that criminals don’t follow rules. So, should there be an actual crime, and were I an actual crime-fighter, I would be bound by your rules not to stop them.”

 

“That’s a good point,” Derek says as Lydia finally appears from the restricted section behind the desk. “Maybe you should start a petition.”

 

“For what?” Lydia asks, butting into their conversation curiously.

 

“To allow crime fighting in the library,” Stiles answers without taking his eyes off of Derek. Is it possible? Are they _flirting_?

 

Lydia scoffs with a disapproving shake of her head. “Of course. Only you, Stiles.”

 

Stiles isn’t sure what happens next but it looks (from the corner of his eye because he’s still staring at Derek) like Lydia trips over something and grabs onto Derek to try and prevent her fall. She fails, knocking Stiles’ book from Derek’s hands and causing a few others nearby to fall as she pulls Derek down with her.

 

Stiles bends as far as he can over the desk to check on everyone. “You guys, okay?”

 

Lydia is already on her knees, picking up the books she’s knocked down as Derek rubs his elbow that apparently hit the desk on the way down. “Yes, thank you,” she answers primly, sliding Stiles’ book to Derek before rising to put the other books back on the desktop.

 

“Derek?” Stiles checks, watching carefully as the librarian pushes Stiles’ fallen receipt back into his book and pulls himself up from the floor. Other than his elbow, he looks to be fine. _Very fine_.

 

Stiles nearly rolls his eyes at _himself_ for that train of thought.

 

Derek freezes at the sound of his name, eyes trained on Stiles in a penetrating stare.

 

“What? Do I have something on my mask?” Stiles asks, swiping at his mask in a poor imitation of a joke. It’s unnerving having Derek’s gaze on him without any idea as to why.

 

“No,” Derek answers, looking over at the stack of books Lydia placed on the desk. “I just didn’t realize you knew my name,” he admits, pushing Stiles’ book across the desk.

 

“Oh.” Stiles nearly winces at himself. It didn’t even occur to him that he would have no good reason of knowing it really. He must look like such a stalker right now. “Well, Lydia probably mentioned you once or twice,” he grasps for an excuse that isn’t _I think you’re hot and I want to date you so I might have asked around the first day I laid eyes on you._

Lydia, bless her soul, plays along, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Don’t worry, Derek. I only said good things. Mostly.”

 

“Hilarious,” Derek tells her before turning back to Stiles and pointing at the book that now resides in his hands. His playful attitude from before replaced by his serious side once again. “That’s due back in a week.”

 

Stiles fights the urge to blame Lydia, she couldn’t have known that she was ruining the first decent conversation Stiles has ever had with his soulmate. “Yeah,” Stiles nods, giving up for now. The moment is gone. “Thanks.”

 

~@~

 

Derek watches discretely as Stiles walks out of the library, worrying internally about what Lydia would have possibly said about him.

 

“You’re staring,” Lydia sings at him.

 

So, apparently, he wasn’t being discrete enough.

 

He throws a brief glare in Lydia’s direction that has absolutely no effect whatsoever and gets back to work.

 

 Looking on the bright side isn’t one of Derek’s strong suits but he tries anyway. Stiles knows his name, he has something pronounceable to call Stiles in return, and they had what he hopes was a fairly decent conversation. The day was not a total loss.

 

~@~

 

When Stiles gets back to his room, he removes the receipt from his book intending to pin it to his corkboard as a reminder so he won’t forget when the book is due back to the library. Except, what he pulls out isn’t the receipt. It appears to be a poem written on a small, rectangular piece of paper, easily mistaken, he supposes. Stiles starts reading it without further thought.

 

_Eyes, sharp and unfathomable,_

_Capture my heart._

_Behind the walls I’ve built,_

_I’m shaken apart._

_But deep in your smile_

_A world of promise lies_

_And, like the angel you are,_

_You invite me inside._

_I am forever yours._

_Love,_

_your secret admirer_

“Nice,” Stiles gives a nod to the anonymous author as he places the poem on his bed and goes back to his book to look for that receipt. It’s a shame that whoever the poem was intended for lost it, he thinks as he flips through the pages of the large reference book. It’s actually a pretty good poem.

 

Seconds later, Stiles reaches the end of the book and is frustrated to find that his receipt seems to be missing. He scours through the thing one more time before giving up with a sigh. His corkboard has a little dry-erase section on one side so he does a quick calculation and writes down the due date there, hoping it won’t accidentally get erased before he returns the book.

 

Determined to get back to work on his paper, Stiles throws his bag down on his bed and opens it up to get his laptop out. Hands poised to grab his computer, Stiles’ eyes stray over to the nearly forgotten poem sitting on his bed. The thing that’s bothering him is that he _saw_ Derek put a piece of paper in his book. He _saw_ it. But, what if the piece of paper wasn’t the receipt Stiles thought it was. And Derek did make a comment reminding him that his due date was in a week. Perhaps because Derek had replaced the receipt with the love poem?

 

No. No, it can’t be. Stiles shakes his head at the mere idea. But then…

 

What if it is? What if Derek wrote that poem for him and replaced the receipt with it so that Stiles wouldn’t think it was just some random paper left behind in the book that someone else forgot?  What if Derek actually likes him?

 

Needless to say, Stiles is too busy reading and re-reading the poem to finish his paper.

 

~@~

 

Derek is actually checking books out for the serial napper (his name is Isaac) when Stiles fumbles back into the library the next day.  He doesn’t walk by and take a table like Derek expects, he gets in line behind Isaac. There’s nothing to return or check out in his hands and for some reason that makes Derek nervous. He starts moving slower with Isaac’s books, trying to stall the unknown.

 

Isaac catches Derek’s glances over his shoulder and turns to get a look at Stiles for himself. He’s smirking when he turns back around, like he has some idea of what’s going on in Derek’s head.

 

Derek curses to himself as he prints out Isaac’s receipt. The last thing he needs is another Lydia on his hands, thinking they know everything like it’s any of their business.

 

Derek gives Isaac a glare as he pushes his books across the counter.

 

If anything, Isaac is even more amused, biting down on a full blown grin. “Have a nice day,” he says, glancing at Stiles again as he takes his books and goes to walk off and leave Derek utterly defenseless to Stiles’ charms.

 

Stiles steps up a moment too soon to take Isaac’s place at the counter and they end up knocking into each other a little too forcefully. Stiles bag falling to the floor and spilling its contents.

 

All three boys stare at Stiles’ belongings spread out for all the world to see. Or, at least for everyone in the library to see. Unfortunately, the list of things on the floor includes approximately fifty or so brightly-colored condoms. Isaac and Derek both look to Stiles with raised brows while Stiles covers his face in embarrassment.

 

~@~

 

He doesn’t know why he grabbed as many condoms as possible from the Health Services Center. It was somewhere between being hopefully optimistic about his love life for once and a vindictive jealous streak for the people that know with certainty what they’re doing on Valentine’s and that someone is willing to sleep with them. Either way, he regrets everything right now. He either looks like a fuckboy or like he’s incredibly desperate. He’s not sure which is worse.

 

Stiles gathers his books and papers, leaving most of the condoms littering the floor as he  makes his excuses and skedaddles before he can do something even more embarrassing.

 

“Interesting,” Isaac hums, still looking down at the array of condoms on the floor before grinning up at Derek. “Friend of yours?”

 

 _I wish._ Derek groans and disappears into the restricted section. Lydia can watch the desk for a while.

 

~@~

 

Stiles wishes he could stay away from the library for a while and give his shame some time to dwindle a little, at least until after Valentine’s Day, but he has another paper due in a few days and there’s a book on colonial America that he really needs in order to get it done.

 

He walks by the circulation desk without even checking to see if Derek is there. If he is, he probably doesn’t want anything to do with Stiles anymore.

 

He finds his book and sits at his usual table, determined not to be run off from his best working spot.

 

Before he knows it, half of his paper is written, his stomach is rumbling hungrily, and it’s getting dark outside. As is his usual practice, he packs up his stuff, grabs his book and heads to the circulation desk. His footsteps falter when he sees who’s behind it and he has to force himself to take a breath and keep walking.

 

~@~

 

“Hey,” Stiles says when he stops at the desk in front of Derek, shifting from foot to foot.

 

“Hey,” Derek replies. Should it be this cute that Stiles can’t seem to stand still? Derek thinks the answer is probably no but he’s fully aware that he’s a lost cause when it comes to Stiles Stilinski.

 

“Um, I need to check this out,” Stiles passes over the book he’s been using.

 

“Sure,” Derek takes the book and waits for Stiles to hand over his student I.D. but he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring at Derek. “Uh, I need your I.D.”

 

“Oh!” Stiles fumbles in his bag trying to find it, finally pulling it out and causing a small piece of paper to flutter down to the counter as well. Stiles snatches it up before Derek can see what’s on it and Derek feels an acute but entirely irrational sense of rejection from the act.

 

He gloomily scans Stiles’ I.D. and then the book while Stiles continues to shuffle side to side on the other side of the desk.

 

~@~

 

“Fuck it,” Stiles mutters to himself, stepping up to the desk as close as he can. “Did you write this?” He asks Derek, slamming the paper down on the desk.

 

Derek’s gaze travels from Stiles’ determined face to the small piece of paper, reading what’s on it and feeling his stomach drop at the implications. Stiles has a secret admirer?

 

“No,” Derek’s voice is little more than a whisper.

 

“Oh,” Stiles’ eyes fall down to the poem like it’s betrayed him.

 

Lydia appears out of nowhere, quiet like a ninja, and leans around Derek to nosily read the paper. “Stiles!” She shouts, startling them both and reaching out to rip the paper out from under Stiles’ hand. “You found my poem.”

 

“That’s yours?” Derek and Stiles ask in unison, Derek’s voice full of hope while Stiles’ carries the tone of dejection.

 

“Jackson thought he was so clever signing it as my secret admirer,” Lydia announces with a flip of her hair. “He should know me better than to think I’d be fooled by that.”

 

Stiles is filled with an abundance of warring emotions. Resigned to his doomed fate of being forever alone, revolted that he was pining over a poem that was written by Jackson, mockery that Jackson writes poetry. He’ll have to remember to hold that over his head someday.

 

“Thanks for finding it,” Lydia tells Stiles, leaning over the desk to smack a grateful kiss to his cheek before tucking the paper into her purse and getting to work checking in books on the other computer. If only it were ten years earlier, Stiles would be able to die happy right now. As it is, he’s feeling pretty stupid. _Of course_ Derek didn’t write him a love poem.

 

  ~@~

 

“Yeah, happy to help,” Stiles sighs, reaching out to take his book. Something about the look on Stiles’ face, the way his limbs hang heavy with misery, makes Derek think that maybe it’s time to speak up.

 

Derek catches his wrist before he can pull away and walk out the door. “I may not have written that poem for you, I’m not really good with words. But I would. For you, I would try.”

 

Stiles eyes are wide with surprise and Derek can regret nothing when a smile grows on his face. “You would?”

 

“Well, I mean, I’ve always sort of had a thing for Batman,” Derek jokes with a shrug. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to come by and get your signature for this petition I’ve been working on,” Stiles tells him, leaning over the counter as he flirts.

 

“Really? What’s it for?” Derek leans over too, enjoying the way they’re breathing in each other’s air as they banter back and forth.

 

“You’ll see,” Stiles promises.

 

~@~

 

At her computer, Lydia pats herself on the back. Planting that poem was pretty masterful if she does say so herself. Cupid’s got nothing on Lydia Martin.

 

~@~

 

The next day there’s a new petition hanging from the bulletin board by the front door of the Library.

 

**Petition for Hot-Librarian-Derek to be Stiles Stilinski’s Valentine**

There are only seven signatures on it. Lydia, Stiles, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott are on there. But the lack of signatures doesn’t matter much, because Derek Hale’s name is at the very top of the list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated. :)


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